Favor
by Sky Venom
Summary: Dwalin is a stupid kind of drunk. He rarely gets completely sloshed, but a couple of beers can loosen his tongue to say things he doesn't want to. Does the poor lass who serves him deserve his ire? Unprobable. Does she deserve his apology and his attempts at friendly behavior? She seems nice, but Dwalin would take on the dragon instead, thankyouverymuch.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I needed to take a short break from my other story, so as a little practice, I've started this one. Dwalin is one of my favorites of the Company, so I made up this little something for him. It's not long, only eight chapters, but it's almost completely written, so updates will come fast. I hope you like it, feel free to comment!

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 **Favor**

Hot women and cold beer: what more should a proud dwarven warrior wish for at the end of a long, busy, and almost successful day?

Dwalin wished for nothing more. Please, understand his frustration then, when he faces the trouble of not getting it straight away.

His long and unforgiving sparring session with Thorin had just ended, and he was thirsty and drawn-out. Honestly, age and bruising of old battles had started to catch up lately, and to be the only person in a lonely and mistrustful King's life to be able to take the physical aspects of his insecure fury was not a forgiving position either.

There was a tavern just beside the training yard, especially for exhausted fighters to take some refreshment. A good place it was, Dwalin liked it and visited as often as he could. Being a long-time regular, he had his own corner, and beers arrived timely without asking for it. Serving lasses knew him well and offered their cheerful beauty to admire – strictly just for looking – while listening patiently the old dwarves' bragging tales.

So to say, Dwalin loved this lively place. Now, instead of the noisy crowd he met with silence and some brooding drunkards supporting their heads on their hands or the wall; whichever was in reach. The flock of barmaids had probably already gone home, leaving only one or two unlucky ones to endure the worst of the hours. Dwalin silently cursed the impossible schedule of a king; Thorin had had dinner with some envoy, and after an hour or two of light chatting, he found the desire to go sparring – since the battle of wits with a dumb opponent was hardly satisfying. Their session had stretched into the night, thus depriving Dwalin from real, liberating entertainment; but perhaps the girls remained beautiful deep into the night (closer to dawn), and his favorite beer had never run out yet, so he thought it's worth a try.

He took his usual seat, and waved a hand to call for a barmaid. When she arrived, he had to book the first disappointment of the night: the lass was… not very pleasing to his eyes. A disrespectful dwarf would surely call her ugly; her face was angular and bony, her gaze cutting, barely any stubble hiding her sharp features. She wore no stylish adornments in her hair, her only braid fixed all of her locks in one knot on the nape of her head. And Mahal, she was thin! She had none of the attractive curves of a proper dwarrowdam, she looked like a starving washerwoman in the villages of men, hiding her thinness under too large clothes.

Dwalin, of course was polite enough to mask his pitying repulsion. Poor lass, she had a hard competition to get customers and tips! Maybe this is why she took the night shift. Or the keeper tried to hide her from the full house during the busy hours, not to scare the customers away – a few pissed regular might be harder to get rid of.

"The usual," Dwalin growled. They knew him well, and he was not in the mood to entertain neglected lasses. He tried to avoid looking at her, but he heard no movement. She was still standing there, too frightened to speak. "What? Are you deaf or slow?"

"I don't know…"

"A beer, lass, a cold, golden beer. Do you think I'm here to get smashed?"

His command gave her a jump, and she scurried away. She returned briefly with his beer, a bit overflown and definitely not cold enough for his liking. He tasted it to make sure, and told her so:

"Took you long enough, it's warm like piss," he growled. She was almost trembling by now, so he sent her away. "Useless wench," he mumbled. Judging by her tensing shoulders, she must have heard. Dwalin shrugged. It was not his fault that she couldn't get her work done properly. She had not even offer to bring a new one on the house. Not that it bothered him; he could afford a bad cup of beer, but still. He drank it in a long gulp, and called her over again. He tried to avoid looking at her again; her ugliness, he could get used to, but the fear shining in her eyes disgusted her. Why work around people if you fear them?

"Bring me a new one. A cold one. When my cup is empty, bring another, full. Not too full, I don't like my table messy. Stay silent, I don't do small talk. If I do, I will tell you. Go now."

His day was hard, and Thorin annoyed him much lately. Thorin always asked for his opinions, but he rarely heeded them. Balin suggested him to take a wife, but he wasn't happy with the idea. Since then, Dwalin had to jump at the most awkward times at Thorin's wishes. Exactly like a wife would, in Dwalin's opinion. Except for the activities, since one does not go sparring with his wife, nor do any of the activities Thorin invited him to do. Thorin clearly did not want to marry. Dwalin understood him; he did not particularly want to marry either, but Thorin seemed to think the opposite. Dwalin felt like Thorin wanted to interfere with his (non-existent) marriage plans by showing him the pleasures of the life of a bachelor. Dwalin certainly enjoyed spending time with his old friend; they had never been as free as now. Still, his constant presence wearied him. Both of them had grown to be very private, and Dwalin liked to be alone from time to time.

He did not understand Thorin's aversion to marriage either. Beer came after beer, and he started to dwell on this marriage topic more. Thorin had a new prospect according to Balin, and the King was set to meet her the next morning; thus the impromptu fighting spirit. Dwalin was stuck between the two party: Thorin hated the idea of engagement, and Balin wanted Dwalin to encourage the King to take a Queen.

To get Thorin to marry was important, it was widely known. He was supposed to sire heirs, to keep up the Durin line. Thorin always objected, citing, that he had already named his heirs to the throne. But Kíli was far away now, in Gondor, always wishing to wander the world, and Fíli… well, no one knew exactly what Fíli was still capable of.

The ugly lass came and went silently, and suddenly, Dwalin noticed that the tavern was empty except for him and the lass. She was cleaning tables, sending scared glances in his way. She probably wanted him to leave, but he was so pleasantly and comfortably numb…

"Hey, lass, one more beer and I invite you to sit with me." The slurred words escaped his mouth without his approval; why would he let her sit with him? Perhaps he wanted company and she was the only one; sitting next to him he would not have to see her. The lass brought the beer, but did not sit, so Dwalin growled.

"Fine, be scared. I'll tell you scary stories then." Her eyes fell, and she fumbled with the cleaning rags. "You seen battle?"

The lass was just standing there, so he started one of those tales he only told when he was way too pissed. To her credit, after a while, she silently excused herself to go cleaning, while she listened. Dwalin knew he should feel stupid talking to no one, since he doubted she really paid attention, but stopping now would take more self-control than he possessed.

Soon, she finished, and returned to him.

"Would you like another beer?" she asked with unfailing politeness, and complied with his request of a new one. He continued to talk about old battles and adventures, constantly mentioning Thorin.

"Those were the good times, lassie," he stated. "Now he needs to marry and I fear the one he would accept to spend his life with is me," he joked. The lass did not laugh. "He follows me around, wants me to do the same, but you know what? May he be King for long, but my life is my life, ain't his. He does not want to marry? Then piss off and stop bothering me!" He emphasized his point by slapping the table, his empty cup jumping by the force. "What is so scary about marriage? He is King, hm? He does as he pleases. He takes whom he pleases. He makes her do what he pleases. He can just piss off and leave me be, too much is too much. Why did you stop working, by the way?" He finally noticed that she had been sitting by his table for who knows how long. Was his tales so entertaining? He did not want to entertain ugly, neglected lasses, they were clingy, and he was… pissed – rather because of Thorin, not the beers.

"I have nothing more to do." Her expression and tone did not imply that she was entertained, quite the opposite.

"Then why not close up?"

"You are still here, and I was told to wait until the last guest is gone." Her voice was so soft that he barely heard. She was scared, more than before, and Dwalin had to laugh; but she showed hints of stubborn determination, too.

"How are you working here, being afraid of us, tough warriors? Dare you not throw me out?" he teased her.

"May I?" she asked timidly. Dwalin had to release a booming laugh, which echoed in the empty halls.

"Are you completely clueless? Have you ever been in a tavern before?"

"It was my first day at work here. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough, but I need the job!" Dwalin made an exasperated gesture.

"I don't care. Your job, not mine. Be better, leave me be, no problems. Take you home?" The offer was more of a polite turn of speech said without thinking, he did not really wish to spend time with this dull creature; a dwarrowdam should know how to… whatever dwarrowdams should do.

"Excuse me?" Exactly! Dwalin felt his opinion validated, but since he was a dwarf of high moral standing, he repeated the offer.

"I offered to walk you home. I don't need to drink more, I can sit elsewhere, you can close up, and I will get you home safely. Fair offer, isn't it?" He was proud he could yet reason so sensibly, after all the alcohol he consumed. He was talking about Thorin and marriage, for Mahal's sake! His tongue had loosened up considerately, and his mind must be clouded to bring up this particular topic!

"I believe so, Mister," she mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. Dwalin snorted. She was entitled to be uncomfortable, but if she cannot say so, he will sure ignore it!

The lass fumbled with the locks of the tavern, and then walked silently by his side. She only muttered the directions to him, and he was not so much up for conversation. The lass got even more nervous when they reached her door, so Dwalin forced out a polite, but short goodbye, and swiftly clomped away.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke with a start the next morning.

Memories of the previous night filled his mind, and he felt shame crawling into his conscience. Poor lass surely had her own troubles, did not need a drunken fool to take out his frustration on her! He said some pretty awful things. He remembered that he committed everything to make her scared of him. Then, he wanted her to… befriend him? She was new, she must have misunderstood his sudden friendliness, thus the hesitation to accept his company on her way home. Maybe she knew more about the ways of the world than he presumed.

Oh, he made her first day not just a bit difficult, he was aware. And why exactly? Because he did not want to confront his best friend about touchy subjects? He was a coward, and a malicious one at that for ruining an innocent dwarrowdam's' try to get by.

He decided to apologize, she deserved that at the least. He knew where she lived, so he got out of bed and cleaned up. Fortunately, he had never had hangover-problems; sometimes, like now, he regretted. He could stomach alcohol better than most, but he did stupid things often, even after one or two cup of ale. Worst of all, he always remembered. He knew that after consuming too much, many had black spots in their mind, but never him. Sometimes he played with the idea to lie about his awareness, but in the end, he was an honest and responsible dwarf, and he accepted the consequences.

He knocked on her door hesitantly, but when he heard steps from inside the place, he stood a bit straighter. To his surprise, the door did not open, but he heard several pair of feet approaching and some hushed conversation, before she arrived, and stuck her head out of the slight gap she opened.

"Good afternoon, Mister."

"Good afternoon." Dwalin cursed himself for not preparing an impressive apology, but she wasn't helping either. He could only see her head, who wanted to make conversation to a mere head? "May I speak with you?"

"Yes, I will come out in a moment," she answered and closed the door. Shortly after, she stepped out of her home, clad tightly in a dressing robe, and a warm cloak fastened around her torso. Her soft brown hair was falling on her back freely, hurriedly tucked behind her ears. She looked like she had just climbed out of bed. He was a fool to disturb her now – she only went to sleep when he did.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, embarrassed to notice that these not quite daily clothes actually suited her much better than the dress she had wore during the night. She looked far prettier now.

She shook her head. "No, I was already awake."

Dwalin frowned. Had she not slept at all? Or she had, but she was too lazy to dress up? Whatever.

"Good. I came to apologize," he stated. He tried to look guilty, but he knew he had no talent to express himself with his face. He always looked fearless and brutal, hungry for confrontation. He tried to soften up a bit now, and maybe it worked; the not-so-ugly dwarrowdam smiled tiredly.

"Thank you."

"I really mean it. I shouldn't have drunk so much."

"It's a tavern."

"It's no excuse for the things I've said. I was rude. I ruined your first day. I'm sorry. I try not to make trouble for others, but I rarely manage that. I want to make it right," he announced proudly. He will do what she thinks he deserves, and be done with it. However, instead of naming the price, she made a pitying chuckle.

"I thank you for the apology, but these things happen. You should not bother yourself."

"But I do," he protested. She started fidgeting under his gaze, and a disturbing notion appeared in his mind: she was uncomfortable with him. Was he too pushy? Did he really scare her? She did not let him in, even when she must have known his identity.

"I should go. I am really grateful, but you do not need to atone for anything." Despite her words, she firmly stayed in one place, staring at him almost accusingly. He heard shuffling from her home; someone was moving inside.

"Well then," he had to let her go, if she so insisted. "If you need anything at all, I can help you out. There is little in this mountain that I can't take care of. I owe you a favor then, and we are fine?"

A bang came from her apartment, and she quickly nodded, wanting to be in there. "Thanks. I should…" She opened the door, and he saw a bundle of arms and legs trying to scurry away, but she was fast. She had not stepped in yet, and she had one in each hand, muttering chiding words. Dwalin wondered about their effectiveness. Finally, all dwarflings escaped, and the lass turned to say goodbye to him. He smirked at her annoyed expression; so many dwarflings made quite a turmoil, and having them over explained the state of her dress.

"What is this? A nursery?" he asked, only half joking.

"They are my brothers," she replied defensively. His face fell.

"So many?" He saw at least five, neither of them close to adulthood. She was fairly young herself, but now he understood her need of a job – and also, her patient ignorance of his antics last night.

"Six, and a sister, too."

Dwalin counted in his head; he had never met such a big family, only heard about here and there. For dwarves, having so many children was Mahal's blessing. Fíli would love to meet them, and he started to calculate the easiest way.

"Then you really did not need a grown dwarf behaving like a child," he mumbled. "You must be a huge help to your parents," he complimented her. Her eyes darkened.

"They are dead." The confession knocked the breath out of him.

"Does that mean that you take care of them?" She nodded. "Alone?" Surely a husband would not let her work at night…

"Yes."

Her defensive behavior made sense now, she must face difficulties often. Her stance was defiant now, and she started to intrigue him.

"Then I insist to make you a favor. You should use it well, for your siblings, at the least." Dwalin saw that the last words moved her out of the unfazed indifference she handled his offensive behavior with. Good. Maybe, he could have chosen the easiest way and walk away, but a favor was nothing, and he really cared about people's welfare, hers too.

"I shall think about it," she offered.

"Alright, then look for Captain Dwalin, when you've found out. Or should I visit you here again?"

The lass hesitated. "I will try to look for you, but I'm busy and you must be, too. Look for me at the tavern. I am there every evening, perhaps I can find a few minutes for you."

Dwalin drew the conclusion with a little disappointment: she did not want him around here – or around her. He nodded. "Who should I look for?"

"Me, of course," she shrugged, and tried to escape to the safety of her home. He caught her hand.

"I need your name, lass," he growled. Now, she was blushing.

"Stina."

"Stina," Dwalin tasted the name. "Nice and strong. I will look for you. I'm going now. Good bye, Stina."

"Bye, Dwalin," she shut the door, and Dwalin felt she tried to shut him out of her life, too.

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 **A/N:** And here is the next chapter, Dwalin goes and apologizes. What do you think? :)


	3. Chapter 3

Gathering his courage to approach her was harder than Dwalin thought. Thousands of orcs marching against him? Barely deserves a yawn. Slaying a dragon? Child's play. Approaching a reluctant dwarrowdam to keep a promise and be nice? No way, that's not his fight to fight.

He walked past the tavern two days in a row after their conversation, but did not enter. The very next day, he stopped there with full intent of entering, but in the end, he came up with too many excuses. What if she was not working? What if she was too busy? What if she had no idea yet what to ask of him? What if she did not give him her real name? What if she simply wanted to avoid him, because he made such a bad impression? What if he made a fool of himself in front of his friends and those under his command? He was the Chief Captain of Erebor, responsible for security and warfare, he could not allow to be ridiculed. Why did she have to invite him here of all places?

All these 'what ifs' were only useful for an idea to come to his mind. Fíli was always a master of this 'what if' game, since childhood. Although Dwalin did not need more excuses, Fíli was fairly good at talking to people. And he had much free time on his hands, maybe he would be willing to help out.

So, the next day, he brought Fíli with him. They were standing near the entrance, Fíli as casually as he managed, and Dwalin inconspicuously sneaking glances inside to catch sight of the maid in question.

"There she is! You ask for her," he pointed out.

"Me? I am merely the moral support."

"Nah, you should go inside," Dwalin mumbled, ignoring the smirk appearing on Fíli's lips. "There are still free tables, you should be comfortable."

"Are you not even coming?"

Dwalin scratched his head. "I thought you could take care of it better than me," he explained. Fíli nodded with a knowing smile, but let the topic go.

"Fine. I can talk to her, but it's your offer, she should not feel obligated to tell me anything about it." Fíli looked around to size up the obstacles in his way, squared his shoulders as much as he could, grabbed his cane and started toward the tavern with his head held high.

He felt them staring. He always did, but on his usual routes, he was a common sight by now. Near the training yard, however, he had no business; it was only natural that people stared. Yet, understanding did not make it more bearable. He tried to focus on himself and Dwalin – Dwalin was staring at him, too, but for entirely different reasons: apart from his obvious security duties he was just eager to see how the meeting with the dwarrowdam went.

The tavern fell silent when patrons gradually noticed his presence. For a moment, he regretted to come, but the dwarrowdam Dwalin pointed out approached him – the first one to grasp the situation – and led him to the closest table. He liked her immediately. She stopped staring and fell back to the routine, behaving naturally around him. He was grateful when she stayed to serve him, her patience and polite distance diminished his nervousness. He signed for her to lean closer and whispered her his order.

"Bring me something that can pass for alcohol by looks, but is alcohol free, please." He hoped that she complied without questions, and she sort of did.

"We have apple or white grape juice. Both look like beer or some expensive mead. Which one do you prefer?" He chose the grape with a weight dropping off his heart. Going out and being in public brought difficulties and he wanted to preserve as much of his manly pride as he could. Consuming alcohol was one of these characteristics: he had to give up drinking, but he sure as hell did not let others know.

She put the drink on his table, and he thanked her. She blushed: Dwalin said she was new, and probably lacking compliments, maybe common civility too. He watched her go for a round among the tables, while drinking his juice. It was better than apple, but he missed good, cold, bitter beers. A dwarf who did not drink beer was not a dwarf. When Óin first described the constraints he had to accept to live, he threw a fit. When Gandalf and the elven healer of Mirkwood said the same things, he sulked, and when finally Lord Elrond arrived and approved of the previous restraints, he only thanked him for his efforts. He was still dreaming about the old days every night, despite the decade that had passed. In small things, like drinking, he tried to pretend to be whole, but his warrior hero image was lost forever.

The lass was indeed busy, as Dwalin feared, but Fíli had time. He signed Dwalin that he would stay, so he could go wherever he wanted. Probably not far, only for a spar to work off the nerves.

In half an hour, he stopped being a spectacle. The barmaids sneaked curious glances at him, and a few guests felt brave enough to draw him into conversation. Often people were uncomfortable around him, trying to avoid certain topics, not to break his fragile little heart, but they had no idea about real pain. He switched topic when he _did_ feel uncomfortable, but most dwarves talked about innocent things: their families (which he would not have), their jobs (which he did not really have), and good old days (which, well, were just that). He learned to deal with these issues, and enjoyed the cheerful day out.

Stina came from time to time and asked him if he needed anything, he had no reason to complain. She was the one who started to dispel the crowd around him when he showed the first signs of tiring. She brought him food and he asked her to join. It was as good a time to bring up Dwalin as any.

"Thank you for your services, Stina," he began. The dwarrowdam reacted to her name as he expected.

"How do you know me?"

"We may have a mutual acquaintance, Dwalin." Fíli checked several times if he came back, and right now, Dwalin was standing nearby, fidgeting with anticipation. "Actually, he is the reason I'm here."

"He brought you here? Why?" Stina tried to sound the least possible offensive, and Fíli smiled sadly.

"It is hardly the best place for me to be," he sighed. "So let me thank you again. The adjustments you made are perfect and I've rarely felt so comfortable in a public place, but back to the topic. Dwalin is not proud of his behavior to you, and he looks intimidated by you. Quite a feat!" They both expressed their opinion of his ridiculousness briefly, and Fíli continued. "Yet, he wants to make it right. He offered you a favor, have you thought about it?"

Stina hesitated. "I did not believe he was serious."

"You know that now."

"Uhm-hm."

"May I help you decide?" Fíli asked, and Stina looked up. If Dwalin had seen the same lost, yet determined glow in her eyes, he could relate to his willingness to get closer to her. Not that he would have a chance, but maybe Dwalin did. Maybe then Thorin would accept his duty to marry. Stina nodded.

"I have six younger brothers and a sister, and our parents are dead." Fíli winced in sympathy. He had lost his father, but he still relied on his mother. Perhaps his situation was slightly special, yet…

"I see. You would be a fool to refuse his help. Or anyone's, by the way."

"Yes. Still, he is a stranger, and I feel a bit uncomfortable, for asking too little or too much…"

"And that's why I'm here," Fíli concluded. "Are your living location satisfying? The size of your home, the furniture, the level of comfort?" Stina nodded every time. "You are the only one who works?"

"No, the older boys are helping out sometimes, with undertaking small, temporary jobs."

"How many hours do you work per week?"

"It's not settled yet, this is only my first week."

"Be careful not to overstrain yourself."

"I will." Stina had significantly calmed down, since his interrogation began. Fíli's official tone made it much easier – they were talking about facts without the emotions behind them. Her mind had cleared, and suddenly, her face lit up. Her relieved smile made her beautiful in Fíli's eyes. _And to think, Dwalin said she's not pretty…_

"I think we can cover the basics, I know how to manage such a big household," she shrugged. "But if I can really ask for anything…" Fíli confirmed it. "I should think of their future."

"That's definitely a productive idea. Erebor provides many opportunities to develop our talents."

"Yes. Some of them are quite talented, but we have always lacked the funds and connections," she muttered a bit ashamed of her origins. "We have learnt to write at home, I had to teach all my siblings. We have never gone to school, and I have never learned any professions, nor have any of them. Would it be too much to ask for some… directions in this matter?"

"It's easy, we shall decide together. Let me know, or Dwalin, about the specifics, but perhaps another time. I should get home before I… can't."

His last words scared Stina, but she forced herself to stay cool and collected.

"Would you mind fetching Dwalin? He is somewhere around the corner. Be careful, he might run if he sees you. I don't know what you did to him or what he did, but I've never seen him so jumpy before."

Apparently, Dwalin resisted the temptation of escape, since he arrived with Stina sooner than Fíli expected, his eyes downcast, the dwarrowdam smiling broadly.

Oh, Fíli would have so much fun watching their dealings!

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 **A/N:** Next chapter here, I hope you enjoyed it! Fíli is introduced here, he will reappear later again. Thank you all for the reviews, favorites and follows!


	4. Chapter 4

In the end, Stina invited them over on her day off. She reasoned that they could meet all her siblings at once, and in her home, the Prince could find some comfort. She got all dwarflings to help her clean and wash and dust everything, so they would present themselves in the best light possible. It was not an everyday occasion to invite Royalty over to their home! The kids had taken their duties seriously, sensing the grandness of the event. Her sister, Lara brought some special ingredients from the market and her second brother, Paal proved his adeptness in the kitchen and made cookies. Staal and Ferral, the eldest and the third brothers arranged the furniture for having guests (instead of the usual obstacle course), and she borrowed a couple of cushions for decoration from her neighbor, Hanna.

Excitement was hard to contain though, and when they were getting ahead with the preparations, either Kafaal, the fifth brother had dropped a plate, or Randaal, the fourth brother cut himself with his hunting knife which he inherited from their father and now served the purpose of impressing Captain Dwalin. And they had not yet dealt with their baby brother, Gaal, who was always standing (or bouncing or finally, sleeping) in the way, not quite understanding the importance of the guests, but feeling the enthusiasm in the air.

Three firm knock announced their arrival.

She ordered her siblings to stay behind, which they took as 'stay behind me by one step, no less'. She hit Randaal in the head with the doorframe, and tumbled on Gaal and Kafaal, while Staal slipped out under her elbow to greet them as the Head of the House. He was the eldest male, after all, but he was half her age, so his antics were comical to her eyes, but the Captain and the Prince listened to his introduction seriously.

Actually, he did well, until he held out his hand to shake – toward the Prince, who was clutching his cane in the required hand.

"Let's get inside," Dwalin grumbled before anyone could react, but Stina saw Staal blushing, while she shepherded her siblings inside to make room for the Prince.

"Please, take a seat, and I shall introduce them all properly. We made some tea and biscuits, help yourselves." She put everything within reach to the Prince, so he should not move around much. He sighed heavily when he sat down: probably the walk here took more out of him than she thought. (Actually, she cared so much about his comfort that the only thing she did not take into consideration was the distance between their respective homes.) Later, the plates went around the table by her siblings' blatant requests – they acted like they had not seen food in ages – but the Prince asked for what he wanted, and no one ever complained.

After the small talk, in which only Fíli and her participated, Fíli switched to their topic of interest.

"I have never met such a large family before," he observed.

"Yes. Mother and Father were blessed to have so many children," Stina explained, but everyone heard the annoyed snort coming from Lara.

"What? Are you unhappy with Mahal's blessing?" Dwalin blurted out. His presence was almost forgotten in the midst of everything; he stayed completely silent until now.

His usually intimidating look did not affect Lara, however.

"Yes. You have no idea how much they eat."

"Are you the one working for it? Cooking maybe?" Dwalin was eyeing the biscuits, like he would forgive Lara if she was the one baking them, but he got disappointed.

"No, I bring the food from the market. Those baskets are heavy. Stina is providing for us, and Paal is cooking," Lara supplied the information.

"Quite well, if I may get a word in." Fíli's compliment eased the tension, but Stina noticed that he had barely eaten.

Since Dwalin had no retort, Lara smirked in her pleasure to defeat the Captain in a battle of wits. Stina sighed, and tried to save the mood, explaining their family's method of working.

"Paal is the cook of the family, but Lara and Kafaal helps much in the household already. Staal and Ferral are taking on easier jobs to help me provide for them, and I guess, Randaal will join them soon."

"I want to be a warrior," he interrupted. "Father was a warrior, too. He fell in the battle for Erebor."

A heavy silence followed his announcement. Stina so wanted to avoid this particular topic, knowing that both of their guests had fought there and one of them paid a too high price.

The silence compelled Randaal to finish his thoughts: "But I won't fall in a battle, I will be a hero."

This time, Dwalin cleared his throat, ignoring the dwarfling.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. Mother was pregnant with Gaal, and she died of childbirth."

"You are on your own since then?" Dwalin was offensively surprised.

"Yes. We decided to come here a few of years ago, but the road was long with so many children, especially Gaal being so young."

"It must have been quite the adventure to you," Fíli addressed the youngest. "You are around ten years old then?"

Gaal nodded, and Stina spoke to rescue him.

"He does not talk yet." Dwalin inhaled sharply, but Fíli only nodded. Dwarflings learned to talk between the age of two and five – maybe the Prince had a bit more sympathy in his heart than most.

For a while, they were talking about the children. All of them wanted to convince their benefactors about their worth (except for Lara, who provided the sarcastic comments about her brothers' uselessness), and against all chances, everything went well, when Gaal decided to climb into Fíli's lap.

Dwalin immediately jumped to interfere. To Stina's surprise, he did not push the child away, but put him into his own lap instead.

"Now, here, it's better now. That's a place you would never want to go," he murmured in a soft voice, and surprisingly, Gaal listened to him. He nested himself comfortably into Dwalin's arms and used his thick beard as a pillow. Stina glanced at the Prince, who was clearly relieved and sad at the same time.

"Why can't he go there?" Trust Lara to make the most inappropriate observations.

"He just can't," Stina stated firmly, but by then, Randaal approached Fíli, proudly showing off the knife on his belt.

"Did you get injured in the same battle Father fell?"

Fíli's fingers twitched, and Stina tried to get closer, but Dwalin stopped her.

"Come, sit down. He will handle it."

Stina sank to the couch next to him.

"I'm sorry. I told them not to ask."

"Don't fret. He's fine. It's been ten years. Give me some of those," he gestured toward the nearest plate.

"How can anyone be fine with it?"

"He is now. He likes children, and he knew the risks. If they ask, then they will know, and it's easier for him too."

Stina sighed. It was not her business, after all. "Shouldn't I go and keep the kids farther from him?"

"Are they stupid?"

"No!" Dwalin had a gift to be offensive.

"Then let them be. Fíli likes children and honesty, and he can take care of himself. Well, in this regard," Dwalin explained her with an unsettling calmness, while stuffing his mouth with biscuits and balancing Gaal at the same time.

"What exactly happened to him, if I may ask?" If Fíli was fine with questions, then Stina had no reason to stifle her curiosity any longer. Oh, she was curious, of course, but she did not want to pry. The gossips about the Broken Prince were too wild though, to believe them, maybe Dwalin would share some information.

"Spinal injury. Ask him for the exact details."

"Not in front of the children. I asked you, because you are taking care of him now. I would like to know how to make him comfortable, to be a better hostess," she argued. Dwalin chortled, surprisingly sparing them from covering the room with crumbs from his mouth.

"You want to be a better hostess? Why? Do you want to host Royal Dinners?"

Stina just had enough. "Can you not be decent for even a minute? Does offending others comes naturally to you, or am I just a lucky one?"

Dwalin looked ashamed and scratched his head.

"I think it's natural, but it is worse with you. Sorry. I actually meant it as a compliment."

Now, that was a surprise. "How exactly?"

"You have never been to a Royal Dinner. They are dangerously dull. This," he made a gesture implying he was talking about her home and the afternoon, "is perfect."

Stina had trouble to breathe for a few moments, and her heartbeat did not want to slow down.

"This was a compliment, you see," she smiled. "Thank you!"

Dwalin was smiling too, but a few moments later, his lips twitched, and he turned away. She excused herself from his company, and Dwalin did not look at her again, but the sight of him cradling an exhausted Gaal in his arms, while the others were sitting around Fíli, listening to his tales warmed her heart. Fíli noticed her, and smiled with a happiness he did not possess a few hours or days before.

Maybe she really was a good hostess.

* * *

 **A/N:** Here's the family. I (and Stina) tried to make them behave, but not all of them listened...

Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows! Though it seems ffnet does not show the reviews, I still got them in my e-mail, and thanks! I hope none of them is lost!

To Mjean: Nice to see you here, too :) No, Fíli is definitely not a recovering alcoholic, but the Azog-guess is closer. (I can't seem to give him a nice and easy happily ever after...)

To JustAnotherGirl94: There is a hint in this chapter, but I will give more details about Fíli in later chapters. About Dwalin: the unknown 'enemy' is always the scariest :)

To Guest: Yes, I made some hints... but age difference and growing up early is a tricky thing. I don't think Stina cares much about ages (and I haven't even told her age yet :) ), but it will come up later. As for the other characters mentioned, good ideas! :)

To sorrellkaren: Yes, Fíli is here. He is my absolute favorite character, so I couldn't leave him out. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Stina got used to the routine: Dwalin always appeared during her working hours. He was sitting there for a while, chatting with her, and soon, she started to wonder. He did not pay the same attention to the others, and she heard some girls complaining about it.

"He totally ignores me lately!" Stina overheard their conversation. She was always friendly, but did not try to get close to the other girls. She had enough going on in her family, she did not have the patience and the time to keep up with their life too. But they were talking about Dwalin, and she couldn't deny her growing interest.

"I know what you're talking about," the other one supported.

"I miss him. He is rough, but only in words. And he is tipping generously."

"I don't think he is rough, well, being a professional warrior, he is, but his manners are very fine. But he is a stupid kind of drunk."

"He is," they giggled.

Stina saw them poking each other with their elbows, glancing toward her. Yes, they had noticed his new favorite.

She left them and began walking around, greeting the regulars, serving drinks, collecting empty cups, cleaning tables. Her day was usually peaceful: the customers accepted her distance, and turned to the other maids for attention.

"Hey." Dwalin greeted Stina when she arrived at his table. He chose one of her tables on purpose: he couldn't gather his courage to simply speak to her without any particular reason. Still, he was interested how they were doing.

"Hi, Dwalin. You really are a regular," Stina was smiling this time, thankfully. He misjudged her the first time they met. She was dutiful and firm, a little distant, but kind. She hadn't got the beauty of the other maids here, but he blamed her thin stature for it. "You have been here for the last four days, if I counted well."

"Aye, difficult days these are…"

"Sure. The usual?"

Her question became a joke between them after their first encounter. She always made sure that his beer was cold and came when needed, but he tried to behave.

"Kids are alright?" He asked her when she brought his beer and she had time to stop for a minute.

"They are doing fine. Staal is proud of his apprenticeship. Thank you for it."

"No problem. I'm glad he enjoyed his first day."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe! He is usually so silent and serious, but he couldn't shut up for a moment after he came home yesterday."

"And are you satisfied with his master?"

"I trust your judgment, and so far, Staal is satisfied, so me too."

"Good. The others?" he inquired. He wanted to engage her in conversation, and the high number of her siblings seemed like an inexhaustible topic.

"Randaal is sulking. He wanted to start training to be a great warrior. He thought that because it's you, you will offer a place in the guard, which shall be held by him. Like he doesn't have three older and more mature brothers."

"Don't be so hard on him, fighting is in our blood."

"Not in mine."

"Trust me, it's there," he mumbled. She smirked, but did not comment.

Dwalin let her go and do her job. After all, that was why both of them were here: to serve drinks and drink them. He liked when she came and talked to him, but her unfailing politeness frightened him immensely.

After he and Fíli left her home with the decision to find a smithing apprenticeship for the oldest brother, Dwalin felt proud of himself. He did something good for her, and the grateful smile on her lips made it worth. (And the biscuits.) He wanted to see it more. He wanted to make her smile again, but he had no idea how. He was thinking of an excuse, and her siblings seemed to be a good reason to stick around, but he had the good sense to ask for Fíli's opinion.

"Maybe I should offer the fierce little one training?" Fíli was shamelessly laughing at his awkwardness.

"You didn't offer us training when we begged you and we are practically your nephews. You shouldn't make exceptions. And you only promised one favor. You granted her request, anything more is… well, you shouldn't. Only if she asks you, but otherwise, it will look like charity, which she doesn't want. Or she will think that you want something in return." Fíli's smile disappeared. "Do you?"

Dwalin raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, not my business," he smirked. "But she is not in the situation to reject an offer from you, or from anyone. And ladies like a little talking before… you know…" Dwalin was looking at him, total lack of understanding shining in his eyes. Fíli rolled his eyes. "Before the actions. You tell her why you like her and you will get an answer. Contrary to beliefs, ladies are not mind readers."

"And you know that because you have so much experience?" Dwalin growled. He could not help that he had not met any interesting dwarrowdam yet.

"Yes," Fíli answered smugly. "I had," he added with a shrug.

He did appreciate Fíli's help, but it was not helping him while he sat there, ogling her, because every time she came near, every thought from his mind disappeared.

Thoughts came back though, when Balin sat down next to him. He greeted him with a frustrated growl; Balin was too observing to allow him see his clumsiness around Stina. He would start meddling in his affairs, plotting for (or rather against) him, and who needed this? Fortunately, they had other affairs to speak of (another certain dwarf's love interests, or lack thereof), and Stina avoided them.

She got the feeling that Dwalin did not want her around them. It was not the first time that he confused her with his mixed signals: every time she approached him, he turned his eyes away, or raised his cup for a gulp of his beer, and she had a feeling that he subtly showed his unwillingness for her company. Maybe he was simply as awkward as her when it came to simple, everyday friendly conversations. At least she had a large family to talk about, but she wanted him to know that she was more than just a dutiful sister.

He confused her. Why come when he wanted distance? She was aware of the unlikeliness of him being attracted to her, and she hadn't really showed much to build a friendship, and she could only hope he did not pity her. Still, his clear (or just imagined?) interest wakened her interest too…

She was stealing glances toward them, and Dwalin kept looking at her, and she felt uncomfortable, even more when the other dwarf raised his cup for silently greeting her. Her heart eased considerably when he left. Dwalin looked frustrated, so she took him a beer, and maybe a few words to cheer him up.

"My curse of a brother appears at the worst times."

"That was your brother? Lord Balin?" She shouldn't be so surprised that his companions were of high standing, he was the Captain of Erebor, the closest friend of the King.

"Aye. He's a pain in the ass most of the time."

"He looked alright to me," Stina said.

"He looks alright all the time. That's his job. Being all nice and clever, talking bollocks, licking political arses to shine, you know what I mean."

"I do…" She must have shown her displeasure about the way he talked about his brother, because he bowed his head and apologized.

"I know, language. Sorry. Balin's fine, it's just the way we talk."

"Man-talk?"

Dwalin laughed with relief. "That's right!"

"Fine then, as far as you can keep it between you, males," Stina smiled. She got that he was a rough warrior, so why make a fuss about these things? At least he did not personally offend her this time. "And in no way around the kids," she added.

"I won't teach them to swear if I don't see them. I mean, I'm not against seeing them, but I don't," he specified. "Mahal, I'm not coming out of it well, am I?"

Stina was looking at him with the same amused disapproval she used on her brothers.

"Are you feeling intoxicated?"

"I'm a lame kind of drunk. Gets pissed easily, goes stupid. Remember the first time we met?"

"You had only two and a half cup today." Stina's smile grew broader and broader.

"Say it. I'm a lightweight."

"You are a lightweight…" Stina rather asked than said; she wasn't sure if Dwalin was really happy to let her tease him. But it was the first sign of weakness he had shown, and her comment cheered him up a bit.

"It's easy for you to judge, let's see how you do in a drinking contest!"

"Oh, no, enough of this masculine brawling, I'm a dwarrowdam," she stood up for herself.

"I noticed." For the first time, their eyes met for longer than an accidental second. "I would still invite you for a drink."

Stina made an embarrassed gesture. "I'm working."

"Another time then?"

"I'm working. I actually work much. And I have to take care of the dwarflings. I don't have much time, but…" Stina was rambling. Even worse, she was wringing her hands under the cover of her apron. Was Dwalin really asking for her company? Surely not, no one had asked her out for a long time – since before her parents died. She had not had much of a social life since then. Was Dwalin asking her out now? Or was he just offering her five minutes to sit down?

"Well, then, if you're ever free, you tell me…" Dwalin grumbled in a low voice, regretting his bravery.

"I will ask my friend, Hanna. She's babysitting the dwarflings when I'm not home. I will ask her when she can come over?" Her intonation showed her uncertainty, but she gave Dwalin some hope.

"Oh. Of course. Fine."

"Ask me tomorrow, then," she smiled shyly. Even if he asked her out of pity, she had been craving these things for too long to refuse him. Maybe they would have a good time… or a good drink at the least.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next chapter here. Coming fast enough? It's a bit of a filler, but I hope you like it!

Thanks for the reviews!

To JustAnotherGirl94: I like to try something new, something different, I'm glad it works for you!

To Mjean: Details about Fíli will come in chapter 7, as much as Dwalin knows, at least. Fíli does not like to talk about it ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Dwalin left Fíli on the corridor just a few yards from Stina's home. He hoped the lad knew what he got himself into: Dwalin had his doubts, but Fíli needed some space. He only hoped the dwarflings won't cause him trouble, but Fíli insisted on being capable of watching over them, so why not – especially since their usual baby-sitter would be there too.

He tried to forget about his worries though, for the sake of the dwarrowdam he was going to see. Stina was still working, so he had some time to work up his courage and think of some topic for conversation – which he was unable to find in the last couple of days. He rarely conversed with dwarrowdams. He flirted sometimes, made innocent or not so innocent comments, always following their lead. He did not do things a dwarrowdam could be interested in; bragging about old battles would do for a while, but he had already 'impressed' her with his tales. Traditional dwarven courtship contained showing his strength, his wealth, and the willingness to take care of her and their family. Of course he did not want to court her yet (not at all!) but there was something in her, her silent strength, that was pulling him with a force, and he could not resist – not that he wanted to.

He was watching her making her last rounds for the day, a small smile appearing in the corner of her lips when he arrived. She disappeared for a while, and returned wearing a different dress – which fitted her better. She looked softer and more feminine, and she actually had teats (small, but something). She rebraided her hair too, and she was smiling; he had to smile back.

"Hello," she sat down to the opposite side of the table.

"Hello," Dwalin said, smiling. He was starting to feel stupid with all these smiling. Stina fidgeted.

"I will just grab a beer, and…"

"No, you're a guest now. My guest." Dwalin ordered her drink.

"Thanks."

Awkward silence settled on them for a few moments, and Dwalin was helpless. Stina kept glancing at him, waiting for him to tell what he wanted to, but his mind had gone empty. Finally, Stina cleared her throat.

"Did Fíli settle in alright?"

"I guess so," Dwalin nodded. "He has this independence streak once in a while, so I left him arrive alone."

"I do hope the dwarflings don't give him trouble," Stina apologized. "I confess that I am not entirely sure it was a good idea."

"We will see. He is a stubborn one."

"It must be hard." Stina was a bit uncomfortable by talking about Fíli. She tried to behave like he was healthy and normal, not to insult him, but she was always a bit wary. He was a nice person, but his physical limits were unknown to her, and young men (menfolk or dwarves equally) were often reckless. Dwalin, being the observer, noticed her discomfort.

"Don't worry about him. He's going to be fine. He can handle himself, and he wouldn't ask if he doesn't feel up to it. He is careful not to cause extra work."

"You said the same about yourself," Stina commented with an incredulous smile.

"Yeah, I did. I'm not the successful sort, I guess."

"Are you not, Captain?"

Dwalin laughed, her easy teasing getting him more comfortable by every word. She could be brave and spirited, and he wanted to know why she hid it most of the time. Fíli said though that he should tread carefully with too personal topics, like this. He answered in the same joking manner.

"You have no idea what I was aiming for."

Now, Stina laughed too. "And what exactly? Being King or being an ass-licking politician, as you so kindly described your brother?"

Her laugh made his insides stirring with the intention of hearing this sound again and again. Yet, his mind was empty, so he drank. He should have known it's not the best idea in his case…

"Or maybe you aimed to be a beggar. Which one? Help me out, I could get used to a position like yours…" Stina abruptly ended her line of thoughts; she did not want Dwalin to presume she was interested in his position instead of him…

"Please warn me then," Dwalin responded, ignoring the double meaning. "You would certainly make a hell of a general. I would be afraid to stand against you on a battlefield! Surrounded with your army of siblings, and you know what? Your little terror of a sister is the scariest of all," Dwalin stated. Stina raised an eyebrow, and she saw Dwalin's mind catching up with the meaning of his words. "I mean, she is a very nice little lady. A stubborn, intimidating, fiery, nice little dwarrowdam. I like her. She is very nice." He looked at her with despair in his eyes, and Stina took pity on him.

"She can be very scary, and sometimes I wonder… You know, she is very effective at getting what she wants, that's why I always send her to the market. She proved to be a great help on the road, too, always bringing home more food than the others."

"Old costermongers pitying her sad pretty face?"

"Probably so," Stina laughed. "But I'm not ashamed to use her talents. She got Gaal his first toy, a furry bunny which he still uses as a pillow," _when your beard is out of his reach,_ Stina thought, but felt too inappropriate to voice it. "She brought a dagger for Randaal's last birthday – he turned forty when we were in Rohan – and she always gets anything we need."

"You came through Rohan?" Stina nodded. "That's a long way around with the little ones!"

"Passing through the Misty Mountains would be more difficult. Where we came, we did not have longer than a couple of days on the road in between settlements. They had roof over their heads and I had jobs to apply for."

"You're coming from Ered Luin then?" Dwalin frowned. Had he met her before?

"Yes. We lived in the Southernmost Slopes. Have you been to there?"

"I've been traveling through a few times, but never stopped. Menfolk paid more." Dwalin grumbled, never forgetting the hardship and humiliation they often had to suffer among men. Her understanding look told him she had the same experience. Maybe she will tell him about it once.

"It was nice. Small, but comfortable caverns, plenty to discover, gems to collect, tricked neighbors to hide from, everything a dwarfling finds amusing. At least, I did," she chuckled, and Dwalin remembered his childhood, in a different place, but pretty much the same. "It may sound strange, but for a long time, I was a lone child."

"It's not so strange, you are clearly older than them," Dwalin commented with a frown. "How old are you exactly?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Around a hundred, I would say…" Dwalin hated this question. Mahal curse him for bringing it up! It was tricky. Based on his experiences with Thorin's sister, you can never say the right number. Sometimes, Dís wanted to look older, sometimes younger, and she always mocked those whose guess was too far from reality, although it was hard to tell.

"Twelve years over hundred," Stina shrugged. She did not seem disturbed by her age or that he did not find out by himself. "It's hard to tell, I work too much and I had to grow up early… I feel like I was older."

Oh no, it was indeed a touchy topic.

"Speaking of hard work, are you hungry?"

Stina welcomed the idea almost as much as him, but she was probably hungry, while he only wanted to occupy himself and have an excuse for staying silent from time to time. He would have a serious talk with Fíli about meddling with his life and giving him an unnecessarily difficult challenge.

"Mhm, I so love dwarven food," Stina commented after a few bite.

"I'm sure you didn't get the best on the road."

"I managed. For me, this journey was a dream came true." She stuffed huge pieces of food into her mouth, and lost herself in the pleasure of familiar tastes. Her appreciating smile softened her face, making her prettier than he first saw her. He found the sight of her eating with such enthusiasm encouraging. Maybe she was thin only because of the journey; she could use putting on some weight. Fortunately, Dwalin's tongue was slow and his mind fast enough to stop the words from getting out. No dwarf wanted to go down on the road of criticizing a dwarrowdam's figure.

"How so?" he asked when she managed to swallow down the bits.

"I always wanted to travel, to see the world… Now, my dream came true. It was interesting, and I've seen so much… I'm sure I don't have to explain it to you. But it's good to be home."

"Yeah, I know. It's better to be home," he agreed. "What jobs did you find?"

"Oh, everything," Stina's face lit up. "The jobs were not so interesting, I was cleaning in inns, and such… Well, it's not my first serving job. I learned that I should keep to myself and not mingle with the customers." Stina shrugged uncomfortably. This was clearly not a story she wanted to share tonight.

"I can see that," Dwalin mumbled. "I mean, you are doing fine," he corrected before she could find it insulting. He really wasn't sure when he said such things. "You are… doing fine…" he finished awkwardly. He wanted to sing praises about her, but he felt foolish, so he drank instead. Stina laughed.

"You are not really comfortable now, are you?"

"It's not like you are either, you are not socializing often, hm?" he growled, immediately regretting his words. Stina just shrugged.

"You know, you are right to an extent, and I know that you are drunk and you don't mean everything you say, and I drank enough to pretend that you are polite and amusing."

"Am I not?"

"You are, in your own unique way. I've seen worse. And I appreciate being here, it's nice to get out a bit. Things can get crowded at home."

"You should get out more then, shouldn't you?"

"It's not that easy."

"Are you saying that your life is about working and taking care of them?"

Stina blushed.

"I used to do other things. I just don't have the time anymore."

"I believe that, but don't you miss it?"

"Social life? A little, maybe. It's not like I haven't been around people," Stina shrugged. "Especially on the road here," she grimaced.

"Did you really travel here alone with the dwarflings?"

"Yes. I wanted to join a bigger group, but with the little ones, we were slower, they needed rest, so every distance took longer and we didn't want to slow the group… Then I run short of money and I didn't want to travel on charity, so in the end, we settled for some time in the more comfortable settlements or wherever we could and joined another group of dwarves for the next stage, and so on."

"So you met many new people…" Dwalin was fishing for information about any sweethearts she may have or had.

"Oh, yes," Stina made a satisfied sigh, and started to detail their journey. Dwalin enjoyed her company. Stina was basically curious and open, and she was hanging on his stories of foreign lands which he shared. And she mentioned no one.

"I'm glad I'm finally home though," Dwalin finished his tales.

"I'm glad we are here, too," Stina confirmed.

"I'm glad you failed to become a pirate," Dwalin joked.

"Yeah, me too. Drink?"

"You trying to get me sloshed again? Wasn't enough at the first time?"

"You wanted a drinking contest!"

"Then you've won." Dwalin could be generous instead of competing with a dwarrowdam and lose.

"Won? Just so easily?"

"I give up."

"Such a fierce warrior," Stina teased him. "Shouldn't we be going home soonish? I would hate to exhaust Fíli."

"You should worry about your baby-sitter friend. You've heard the stories, if he decided to join the kids, then she has no chance."

The way home passed too fast, and they were standing in front of her door, eavesdropping. The silence was always suspicious.

"We aren't late. Usually, Hanna is still struggling with them this time," Stina said. "Do you think there was an accident? Did someone die?"

Dwalin couldn't help laughing at her comically troubled expression.

"What? There's nothing funny about it! You don't know what we find inside!" Stina fretted, choking on her laughter too. Maybe she had drunk too much, but the evening went well, and Dwalin was looking at her with an appreciation she hadn't got for a long time.

"Should I go first?"

"Yes, please, fearless warrior!"

Dwalin took his job seriously, and such mockery usually pissed him off, but the lass was blushing and smiling, and inviting him to her home, which meant that he did not totally screw up. Her braid was starting to loosen: thin, soft brown locks were hanging to her shoulder, and he took the liberty to touch one of them.

"What do I get for my services?"

Stina slapped her hand away. "I go first," she decided.

They met with darkness, the only light was seeping out from under the kitchen door.

"Wow, this is creepy," Stina tiptoed to the kitchen. There, they found Hanna, the baby-sitter, currently babysitting a very grown up Prince, who surprisingly did not protest loudly.

Dwalin broke closer to them, to see him, his worry making him forget everything else. Fíli looked barely lucid.

"Mahal, Fíli, I'm calling for the chair," he blurted, and left to fetch the carrier specifically built for Fíli to get carried around if he did not felt up to moving by himself. The usage of this chair was a rare occurrence though, and always gave reason for worry. He called for Arnon, Fíli's personal healer, too.

"Is he in pain? Was it too much for him?" Stina panicked, when he arrived back.

"We will know tomorrow." He scratched his head. "Time will tell, but remember, it was his idea. Don't worry."

"Little hard not to," she replied sarcastically. "What if he…"

"It was his idea, his responsibility. He is weak in body, not in mind." Dwalin's determination calmed Stina, but her earlier cheerfulness had gone. Dwalin stepped closer to take her hands in his. "Do you want me to bring news tomorrow?"

"Would you?"

"Happily."

Her shining smile returned, and Dwalin felt doomed. What was it about those courting customs again?

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a fast update, thanks for reading! Tomorrow more! Sky


	7. Chapter 7

Stina's day turned into a well-organized chaos; as if all her siblings, Hanna, everyone on the streets, every single customer, her colleagues, even her boss had participated in a big conspiracy to ruin her day.

First, she overslept, and despite living with seven energetic dwarflings, no one woke her up. (How did they _all_ choose this very morning to stay quiet?) Not even Hanna, when she arrived. Half an hour later, Lara took pity on her.

"Heya, Sis, you're late!" She shook Stina's shoulder forcefully. Stina sat up immediately. She was a bit dizzy and needed a moment to register the words.

"Late for what?"

Lara rolled her eyes.

"Mahal, what ya think? For that big brute from last night, for example? Or getting your ass to work? Or breakfast? Or watching the sunrise? 'twas a beauty today," she listed. Stina fell back to her pillow, knowing that Lara was simply having fun – she had a strange sense of humor, which made this situation completely normal.

"Ain't jokin' though," Lara stated with those huge, rounded eyes of her which she always made when she wanted to be taken seriously. To be honest, she wanted to be taken seriously most of the time, so Stina was still unsure if she was the victim of a joke or she really overslept. "Hanna's here."

Stina giggled. "Right, then why is she not the one waking me?"

"She's… busy now, pondering on the meaning of life or somethin' such grave," she stated. Stina frowned.

"I guess, she forgot you," Lara said, picking her nails.

"Stop this, you're not alone," Stina slapped her on the hands.

"You're late."

"Right. What time is it?"

"Noon," Lara told her. "I've been to the market, and all is right, except you were to be at the tavern now, ain't ya?"

Stina jumped out of her bed. "Why did you not start with this?" Oh, Mahal, why was her sister such a useless little brat? Her antics often annoyed her: Lara seemed incapable of accepting the rules of life, always following her own strange ideas.

"I said so," she shrugged. Stina sighed and ignored her: after all, she was the only one who had the good sense of waking her up. She was dressing up, when she heard the oddest thing from outside of her door: Dwalin's grumbling voice was unmistakable, but what was he doing here?

"Ah, the brute." If Lara noticed too, then she wasn't dreaming. Stina stomped across the room in a panic-like hurry and threw open her door, slightly aware of her just-out-of-bed look. Her appearance startled Hanna so much that she screamed, but Stina had only eyes for Dwalin, who was standing there stoically, eyeing her. Stina crossed her arms on her chest, unconsciously drawing more attention to her disheveled state. Dwalin blushed.

"Did I wake you?"

"No."

"I thought you were working by now," he asked hesitantly, trying to avert his eyes from her form.

"She overslept," Lara stated, chewing on a toothpick and watching the unfolding scene with interest.

"Oh, Mahal!" Hanna screamed again. "I thought you were gone! I'm so sorry, Stina, I'm so very sorry!"

"No problem," Stina mumbled. Her real problem presently was standing in front of her, somehow getting closer and closer, watching her… She fidgeted to hide herself – not that any inappropriate part of her body was uncovered, yet her dress was barely fixed to stay on her, and she had just got out of bed, and he was seeing her in this state…

She was comfortable in her life, as much as she could, with her siblings and the difficulties, and caring for them was instinctual. But when she felt Dwalin's eyes on her now, her interpretation of comfort changed. He was looking at her with the same stoic expression he usually wore. His confident balance stilled her completely, waiting for him to get closer, feeling a pull, yet wanting to hide, but she felt like there was no hiding from him anymore. On the contrary, it would be far more pleasant to hide in his arms, to accept his powerful presence as hers.

"Get ready, I will go with you," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone, and she did just as he told. It was easy. No one had been telling her what to do in problematic situations for a long time, and she welcomed his instructions.

Though folks were turning after them on the streets, curious about the Captain's company, no one really disturbed them. She wanted to comment how people got out of their way swiftly, but Dwalin kept one hand on the great dagger he wore on his belt, and he put on his most menacing expression – which explained all.

"How is Fíli?" she asked. Probably he was the reason of Dwalin's 'early' visit.

"Well enough to send presents to your baby-sitter," he shrugged, trying to shake off the weight of guilt. "But not well enough to deliver it himself."

Oh. Fíli was sending gifts to Hanna? She had to know what happened.

"I offered to bring it, I owe him that much." Dwalin shrugged again, and Stina finally understood that there was more to this story. She touched his hand with one finger, careful to be noticed only by Dwalin, which prompted him to talk .

"I would do anything to make it right for him," his confessions continued. "He _should_ hate me, because his injury is my fault and Thorin's. He sent them over, to scout the area," he gestured in the direction of Ravenhill. "It was a trap. We realized too late. I should have gone, not them – and Fíli… he was caught and held up by the collar by that beast, then stabbed and thrown down, and we have no idea how did he survive, but he did."

Dwalin took a little break, but Stina didn't interrupt.

"He was gravely injured, passed out for days, weeks, and he couldn't move… Mahal, I still feel guilty every day for not being in his place." He was cracking his fists with irritation, so Stina reached out to calm him. "He had a broken spine. He had lost control over his muscles and his sensations. Had he been of any other race he would have died, but dwarves are sturdy and he was young and strong. It took him years to recover, but moving around is difficult, his sensations are delayed, he tires easily and is often in pain, like now. It should have been me," he declared, as if it was an unquestionable fact.

"I'm sorry," Stina said quietly. There was really nothing more to say, clearing away Dwalin's desperate feelings would be a much harder task.

Surprisingly, her boss did not utter one word about her tardiness, so she thanked Dwalin. He promised to see her in the evening, and left her to her work.

Hours passed, and she noticed a perplexing change in the behavior of practically everyone in the tavern. The owner inquired about her level of fatigue, and made sure she took her breaks properly, suddenly encouraging her to take it easy. Customers were staring and murmuring when they thought she was busy, and when she turned, they pretended something else was holding their interest. Even the girls were smiling secretively at her, giggling without explanation. Stina had more than enough when Dwalin returned. She stopped abruptly at the moment she saw him, fighting the urge to go to him and beg him to take her away… but she realized the ridiculousness of her desires. She just hated being… talked about, because she knew that's what everyone was doing all day.

Dwalin approached her with his slow, confident stride.

"Captain Dwalin, how good it is to see you!" Stina's boss greeted him enthusiastically, pushing Stina out of the way. She reluctantly continued her round, avoiding them. She had the disturbing itch that she was the topic of their conversation too. Maybe her boss noticed that sometimes she talked to him a little longer than she should? Perhaps, but she doubted that anyone would dare to admonish the Captain of Erebor for keeping her from work.

Suddenly, Dwalin stood from the table, and left the tavern.

"You are free to go now," her boss addressed her. "It's an easy night, go home, get some dinner and some rest too. Your siblings would be happy to have you home."

Stina obeyed without questions, she knew better than to argue with her employer. Still, this strange day and this strange order made her queasy. What if she had just got fired? She picked up her things and left the tavern, sick with worry. She was startled by a hand claiming her elbow. She reacted without a moment of hesitation, and swung her purse toward the supposed direction of her attacker's head.

"Stop it, it's just me," Dwalin growled, protecting his head with one arm, if another attack came. "And you said you are not a fighter?"

"Sorry." Stina was completely embarrassed. "I had a tough day, and I fear I messed up this job. He sent me home." Dwalin laughed, but his laughter was off and completely out of place. "It's not funny!"

"It's not you who messed up, it's me," he stated.

"How exactly?"

Dwalin switched his weight from one foot to the other, and back.

"Let's go to a more secluded place."

Stina had one in mind.

"I had not been here yet, it's beautiful!" Stina exclaimed, when Dwalin led her to the underground waterfall, which was still shining in many colors, thanks to the unique natural built of the cavern. She knew all about the great spectacles of Erebor, but had not had the time to visit them yet. "Do you think it is secluded enough? Will you tell me now what have you done?"

"I was quite firmly asked to behave honorably to you or avoid you by all means."

Saying it out loud did not prove to be so hard as he thought, but her confused expression suggested that he needed to elaborate.

"Your boss is very protective of his girls, you know. He noticed that I sort of singled you out, spending time with you…" Dwalin cleared his throat. Stina was still looking at him questioningly, but Dwalin doubted her cluelessness, he knew better now. Yet, she was not helping him, so he continued.

"I've seen and done more to content myself with meaningless flings."

Stina willfully turned her gaze away from him. Dwalin had a suspicion that he could have been more subtle or persuasive or nice, to please Stina instead of finally scaring her away with his bluntness. Her silence made him nervous, so he ranted on.

"Just tell me what's on your mind. I'm not the one for useless niceties, you should just say outright whatever you want. I'm listening." She was tense and silent, so like a statue… "I greatly enjoy your company…"

"What do you expect from me?" Stina asked. He was not making any sense.

"It's up to you." _Very helpful, Captain,_ she thought sarcastically. "I know I'm not the best you can get." Stina snorted, expressing her amusement. "And I've been thinking." Stina tried to stifle her next snort, unsuccessfully. "Fine, I'm not the thinker, but I talked to others." Meaning Fíli.

"About me?"

"What else?" _Who,_ Stina corrected in her mind, but did not interrupt. "You are on my mind most of the time. It's uncomfortable, to be honest."

"Thanks," Stina answered drily. "You really should work on your compliments."

Dwalin blushed, and Stina took pity on him. "I know what you mean, Dwalin. I'm just teasing you."

"I know. Still, it makes me feel that you could get better than me," he admitted.

Stina disagreed. She liked him. Dwalin was a tough warrior, which easily impressed dwarrowdams, her too. He had seen much of the world which captured Stina's attention after her own experiences. She could imagine relying on him, caring for him. Yet, she had already seen his worse side: the grumpy and rude dwarf, whose spirit was ruined by these experiences, but gradually, she had warmed to him.

She was a bit nervous, but she was used to be determined despite her fears.

"I'm not in a situation to refuse your approach, even if we have known each other for such a short time, but I deem myself more worth than to be satisfied with a half-hearted…"

"Courtship."

Dwalin was the brave one to say the word abruptly turning toward her, getting too close for her comfort.

"It's not very smart of you," Stina warned him one last time.

"I'm not known for it."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, they said it. Dwalin, precisely. I will explain dwarven courting customs in the next chapter, which will be the last chapter of this story. I plan to bring it in the next days, I don't know on which day - I have my final exam at the university tomorrow, and I have no idea how long the after party will last :) - but until the weekend.

Until then, if you are curious about Fíli, or why is he sending a present to Hanna, check out my other story, **Sanctuary** , which I will publish now. It describes what happened with Fíli while Dwalin was with Stina (during chapter six).

I hope you liked the new chapter, thanks for the reviews and follows!

To sorrelkaren: I'm not surprised that you got confused by all the dwarflings! :D I included them to show the chaos around Stina, so it worked. I only planned this story to set them up for the long road of learning to be together, but I have some ideas how would it go... Here, Dwalin had to grow a pair to handle their situation by himself, and let's see, how he handles the next chapter - where I will involve other characters too. And finally, here is the explanation about Fíli, I hope it's good enough :)


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Last chapter then!

* * *

Dwarven courtship was a delicate tradition. It was the first stage on a road to marriage, which was sacred and unbreakable, so dwarves treaded carefully with their hearts' desires.

During courtship, the involved parties were getting to know each other, after the expressed romantic interest on both parts. Depending on the length of their acquaintance, the courtship period could last a few weeks to a decade, but never to be skipped! Since the main purpose of the courtship was to publicly declare your love, accepting congratulations and opinions from relatives and friends – thus, getting outsiders' points of view. These introductions were important, for the heart of a dwarf was often hasty in declaring love, but lacking in experience. And a dwarf loved only once, but the process of finding the perfect partner was constituted by more, than eagerness. Courtship could be broken off, and finding the faults during it made many marriages easier by being prepared – or completely avoided in many case.

In Stina's case, there was no one to introduce Dwalin to, since he had already met not only her siblings, but their baby-sitter too, not to mention the girls she worked along with… and her list of acquaintances was quickly completed.

On the other hand, Dwalin was related to every Highness in Erebor, and was one of those who reclaimed the Mountain. On a personal level, he was perhaps the closest friend of the King.

This friendship caused Stina much worry: especially after she asked Dwalin last night about how much free time he had.

"As long as you want. I've cut shorter my time with Thorin lately. I know he is lonely, but I can't take one more of his hissy fits."

Dwalin was grinning. His friendship with the King intimidated Stina not only because of his position, but also because of the strength of their bond. Was she coming in between them or was she only a temporary distraction in their friendship?

"You shouldn't ignore him for me," she suggested.

"He'll be fine. He is getting used to my other interests."

"Which is… spending time with me?"

Dwalin made a sound which could be interpreted in any way.

"Don't worry about Thorin. Actually I was thinking you two should meet."

Stina gasped. He couldn't possibly mean… Of course he did. Thorin was his cousin, his friend, his King; of course he would be the first she met. She didn't know Thorin personally, but based on Dwalin's stories, he would not support his friend getting… into a serious courtship. Which means… Thorin may not approve of her, not as a friend, and certainly not for more.

Yet, Stina knew it was the way this should be done, so she didn't complain when Dwalin led her toward his brother's apartment. Balin was kind enough to invite them – so Thorin could get off if he takes offense, but also the couple has a place to retreat, should _they_ take offense. After all, Balin was a politician, he knew a delicate situation when he saw one.

He was the one who tried to ease the obvious tension after the introductions, by politely inquiring about Stina and her family. Meanwhile, Thorin sat in an armchair, huffing on his pipe, evaluating his opinion about her in silence, with a scowl on his face.

"Would you mind sharing the story of how you met?" Balin asked. "I know that it happened in the tavern, but how?"

Stina glanced at Dwalin, who conveniently had just started choking on his biscuit.

They so did not think it through; they should have come up with a slightly more acceptable story than… Dwalin being a drunken asshole.

"It was my first day at the tavern, the first night actually," Stina started hesitantly, waiting for Dwalin to join in, but when he stopped choking, he stuffed more biscuits into his mouth, winking at her, indicating it was her conversation.

"Are you working in a _tavern,_ _at night_?" Thorin finally joined the conversation, showing his amused displeasure.

"Why, yes, sometimes. Usually, I work until midnight, but we take turns for the later hours. I am a barmaid. I am serving drinks."

"I know what a barmaid is." Thorin scoffed, but fortunately did not comment further.

"And what happened? Since I know my brother frequents these places often, but he has never brought home anyone, there must be a story."

Dwalin tried to pretend that he wasn't listening.

"I was new, I had some trouble finding everything and there was a bit of messing up the orders, and he sort of helped out and then entertained me with stories while I cleaned up…"

"So he was a knight in shining armor, hm?" Thorin spoke up again. Stina blushed, and Dwalin was coughing again, for which he gained a smirk from his friend.

"He was drunk," Balin concluded, "weren't you?" Balin addressed his brother and winked at Stina. "Nice try, but no need to deny that he is a stupid kind of drunk. What did you do?" he turned to Dwalin again. Dwalin tried to swallow, but in the end, he gestured to Stina to explain.

"Actually, he did tell some stories…"

"Don't tell them, please. I'm not proud of that night," Dwalin cut in, frowning in his genuine displeasure.

"At least you are good at apologizing," Stina mentioned, diffidently cracking a joke, unsure if her comment was acceptable among his family. Dwalin appreciated her try at cheering him up.

"Useful skill," Dwalin murmured.

"It is!" Finally, Stina turned to him, and their eyes locked.

"Yeah, I've got to know you." Dwalin cleared his throat, determined to finish this topic once and for all. He was getting sappy, and Thorin would mock him for it forever.

"I think it was nice of you. You have no idea how many idiots I come across, and you are a nice one, for a change." Dwalin snorted a 'thanks'. "Oh, sorry, I did not mean… that way." He was grinning, but she believed to see disappointment behind it. She felt a pang in her heart for it, but on the other hand, Thorin showed some interest for the first time tonight.

"Did he tell you the one about us and the road trip to the North?" Unfortunately, Stina couldn't recall any stories from that night. She made sure not to pay attention. "That's a pity. Should I tell?"

Dwalin – quite eloquently – expressed his disagreement with a cushion thrown at Thorin's head.

Balin let out a tired sigh, from which Stina gathered, this behavior was a common occurrence.

"What are your siblings think about him?" Balin asked her, engaging her in a private conversation, while Thorin smugly threw the cushion away from Dwalin's reach. The next object to fly was a half eaten biscuit, which brought back Thorin's scowl (crumbles in his hair!), but he ate it in the end.

"They are fine with him, I guess; only my sister objected, but there is nothing in this world she doesn't object to. My brothers like him, he is a hero, after all…" Dwalin took the plate of biscuits in his lap, to prevent Thorin from eating any more of them after this affront. "Is this how grown dwarves behave?" she frowned. "Is this how my siblings will be?"

Balin had the decency to hide his smile. "It took them long decades of hardships, when all they could count on was each other."

"They are very close, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," Balin stated. Stina had a feeling that he understood her position and her fears about getting in between them. "They are both hard-headed idiots. Though, you should not worry."

Stina was watching the childish banter with a tight smile, while Balin switched from the sensitive topic without offering more help or explanation.

"You should bring your siblings one day. I guess they are in the package, too." Stina saw Thorin flinch. She could see why he was King. He paid attention to every detail in the room: while deflecting Dwalin's attacks with ease (Stina saw his knucklebuster flying through the room once), he was listening to their conversation as well. And somehow, the cookies and Dwalin's beer ended up in his hands too. These observations alarmed Stina: if he wanted her away from Dwalin, he would get her away, period.

"Have you talked about any serious matters yet?" Balin asked. Thorin and Dwalin immediately stopped whatever they were doing, and listened to them.

"Not yet, it's still very early."

"And how long do you plan your courtship to last?"

Stina and Dwalin looked at each other. They _really_ did not talk about anything, they only agreed to court a few days ago, why should they plan their whole future yet? Planning came after the engagement, courting was simple and pleasurable.

Balin was looking back and forth between them curiously.

"We plan to have a long courtship – after all, we haven't known each other for long…" Stina stated.

"How long? How short, dear brother," Dwalin smirked at the same time.

In the heavy silence, which followed their answers, their words had time to sink in. Dwalin buried his head in his hands, while Stina blushed furiously.

They found humor in the answers of the others, coming precisely at the same time.

"It is going to be a short courtship, I bet," Thorin raised his cup at them, with a superior expression.

"You two clearly need a long time to realize that conversation is an essential part of a relationship," Balin sighed. Dwalin let out a nervous laugh, while Stina shut her eyes and massaged her temple. When Dwalin's arm got around her waist, her worry disappeared. Maybe he was not perfect, but he was here, and she was glad that finally he took charge of the situation. She _will_ deal with his childish side somehow.

"Let us work out the details, brother. We are grown dwarves, we can work it out on our own," he stated. "The shorter time we have, the less chance I have to mess up," Dwalin whispered in her ear, and she had to chuckle. "Don't let him corner you with his sneaky questions, tell him that it's not his business." Stina was certain about never telling it to Balin, but Dwalin's words eased her tension.

"Yes, let them work it out, Balin. I'm curious about my dear friend's talents." Thorin couldn't help himself: he knew Dwalin and his lacking social abilities. He couldn't imagine how he believed he was falling in love, that was ridiculous! They promised each other to never fall in love, there was no need to further complicate their lives.

"Are you?" Dwalin growled. "Then let me tell you, it's not your business either. It's mine. Solely mine."

"Solely? What does the lass say of it?"

Stina did not like the tone they started to use about her (well, Dwalin's defensiveness was sort of appealing, but unnecessarily harsh), but they had just met… perhaps she will be braver the next time. She let them quarrel in their masculine way, while Balin addressed her again.

"Do you see? They are very much alike. What one thinks, thinks the other too. What one does, also does the other. You are a very encouraging development in Dwalin's life, and I wish you the greatest of happiness."

"Thank you," Stina said, while Balin hesitated. He wasn't sure how to continue.

"Perhaps you know of our predicament with… upholding the line of Durin. Could you help us out a bit?"

Stina knitted her eyebrows. She was planning to have children one day, but right now, she really wished to tell Balin to mind his own business.

"Please, do me a favor and show that inconvincible bachelor there," he directed her gaze at Thorin, "the advantages of a marriage."

Stina shook her head, very surprised by the request.

"I do not feel qualified to…"

"I feel you are the most qualified for this purpose," Balin interrupted her protest. "You managed to catch my brother, and our best chance is that Thorin will follow. You only need to be spectacularly happy."

"Which I will be, since your brother will make sure I am happy," Stina corrected him. Balin truly had a twisted tongue, and she preferred simple talk to his roundabout way.

Balin was watching his brother for a few moments before answering.

"Of course, he will," he said in a neutral tone.

Oh, no, Stina thought. She caught Thorin's victorious glance when he managed to keep Dwalin's undivided attention, and this plus Balin's not-clearly-expressed doubt about his brother's courting abilities was a bit discouraging.

But once, Dwalin compared her to a general on the battlefield. Maybe he was right, she could be fierce and defensive, and now she felt she would have to find her fighting spirit. Now, despite Thorin's diversion, Dwalin squeezed her hand, and she calmed down. He was her safety net. She laid all her fighting spirit to his feet, welcoming him as… as someone owning a huge part of her life.

Perhaps she won't be _spectacularly_ happy, Dwalin wasn't much for _spectacular_ , and neither was her. She will not let their doubts drive her away, they will deal with whatever happens, and it was just a courtship yet, their business. She wasn't doing anyone any favor, but herself. (Perhaps Dwalin, too.) And she would certainly not stand for Thorin's involvement in their relationship.

(She had no idea how many times she would have to remind herself of this promise.)

* * *

 **A/N:** So this is it. (For now.) I started this as a short distraction from my longer story, **In the shadows** , and now I willl work on it again. Dwalin and Stina are on the road to be together now - I'm sure they will have difficulties (Thorin, for example) but that's it. I have ideas about sequels, **Sanctuary** , for example (Fíli and Hanna's story), which I plan to continue eventually.

Until then, **thanks** for the reviews, follows and favorites, and everyone silently reading! I hope I brought some good moments with this story.

Sky


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